


Saturday morning

by Wrathofscribbles



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Multi, Pelcronyx, spider-man au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 17:59:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15954587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrathofscribbles/pseuds/Wrathofscribbles
Summary: One of these days Pelna will learn a simple question is never that when Nyx is involved.  Or Crowe.





	Saturday morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Courtesy of falling in love with the new Spider-Man game.

“So how did you two meet?”  Crowe asks the following morning, nudging at a thigh with her bare foot, taking great delight in eyeing Nyx over her tea, from the tangled mess of hair to the sleep-softened curve of his smirk into something content and peaceful, to the bulk of muscle earned through years of work in construction and hitting the gym more often than strictly wise for one’s health, the scars he’s amassed over the years, the birthmark stamped on his right hip and the blossoms of colour around it courtesy of her own mouth, the tuck of one ankle under the other, feet resting on Pelna’s coffee table like they belong there.

And really, they _do_.

“Hm?”

“You two.  How did you meet?”

“Oh _that_.  Hey Pelna,” he pitches his voice louder as he twists around to cast his gaze into the tiny-ass _cube_  the man in question calls a kitchen, content smile pulling wide into a grin Crowe has learned means _trouble_ when the poor bastard calls back.  “You wanna tell hot stuff how we met, or will I?”

_"Don’t you dare!”_

“See, I encountered _Spiderman_  before I met our sweet little Pelbear here -”

_“I’ll web your bare ass to the side of this building, I swear to Shiva.”_

“- when he crashed through the window while I was in the shower.  The _bathroom_ window.  Fucker got a front row seat to the show and never bothered to pay for his ticket.”

_“I will have you know,”_ Pelna says, sudden and quiet and _right there_ , feet planted shoulder-width apart _on the ceiling_ , arms folded over his chest and a dishtowel trapped between his forearms, scowling at them, “that I paid for that window the same damn week.”

“The _window_ , sure, but -”

“Hang on, another question.  Does all of your body do that?”

“Huh?”

“Y’know.  Stick to things.  Does your entire body do that?  Because I’m not seeing any movement.”

“Any... movement?”  His head tilts in his confusion and it looks _really weird_  upside down and yet.  Not.  It’s still Pelna’s face, just the wrong way round.  He did the same thing with his costume on, too.  But she has to sigh when he still doesn’t catch on even when she waves her hand in his general direction - in his _lower_ general direction... _higher_ lower general - yeah, no, that’s a confusing mess to even try wrapping her head around.

“Do you have a gravity-defying dick or not, is what I’m asking.”

Nyx positively _cackles_  in the brief window of stunned silence that follows, before Pelna’s indignantly squawking at her and glancing down - _up_  - at his boxers as though to make sure they’re still there, balling up the dishtowel and nailing Nyx right on the head with it and -

“I think the bacon’s burning.”

_“God-fucking-dammit I hate you both!”_

\- and he  _swings_  back into the kitchen, because, y’know, that’s a totally normal thing to do when you’re a mortified, webslinging superhero.

_What a lovely Saturday morning_


End file.
